


Sing Me Like A Choir

by blushing_phan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, NSFW, Very not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushing_phan/pseuds/blushing_phan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The challenge was to describe a sexual encounter without being explicit, so here we have a fanficition about sex without the word 'penis' or any of it's synonyms in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Me Like A Choir

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey! I'm quite proud of this one, as I was sure I wouldn't be able to do it, but here it is! I've hardly ever really written anything smutty before, and even though this fic is very mild (I would even go so far as to describe it as sweet), it's still about sex. I hope you enjoy it! Feedback and comments, as always, are encouraged and appreciated very much! Thank you for reading!

_In retrospect_ , Dan thought, as his hands ardently, almost cravingly roamed the lustrous skin of Phil’s back and sides beneath his starchy shirt, _I’m glad we left that party early._

He was astounded that his nebulous mind could even piece together cohesive thoughts as he stumbled backwards through their unlighted flat, the weight of Phil’s body pressing earnestly against his own acting as a sort of compass. 

Dan wondered how much more he would be able to withstand before he dissolved into a cavalcade of desperate hands and fireworks behind the eyes. As it was, he was positive that if Phil didn't have his arms wound tightly around him, his wobbly knees would have already given out. 

Dan was _sensitive_ , and he felt every single touch in magnified surrealism; the tickle of Phil’s eyelashes against his cheek, the sensation of a cold nose pressing into his jaw. He was acutely aware of it all. Most striking and enfeebling was Phil’s warm mouth, his lips soft and a little chapped and altogether far too enticing as they tattooed a pattern along his neck and shoulder, and so enraptured was he that Dan hardly registered when the soft backs of his knees collided with the end of a bed and he was knocked backwards into a sea of freshly laundered sheets. 

Phil’s hands began to wander now, too, beneath the hem of Dan’s shirt, his palms against Dan’s waist and his thumbs pressing tenderly into his hip bones. They slipped up Dan’s back, dragging his shirt up, too, and Dan only had to raise his arms and lean up a little to shrug it off and toss it to the floor. 

Now sitting mostly upright and straddling Dan’s legs, Phil settled his hands on Dan’s thighs, his delicate fingers tracing pictures there as his eyes, which were, by some means, still miraculously blue in the near-complete darkness, gazed downwards. 

“Your pupils are dilated,” Dan whispered, perhaps a strange observation to make, but an accurate one nonetheless. 

Phil smiled, and with his ruffled hair and rosy cheeks, flustered and disheveled as a result of the somewhat clumsy but oh-so sweet touching and grabbing, Dan’s heart rate skyrocketed so vehemently that it made him dizzy. 

“I think they're trying to see as much of you as they can,” Phil said, and Dan knew, even without really seeing, that Phil was blushing now, because he could rarely say such things without embarrassing himself. 

“You're loony.” 

“Only for you.” 

This time, Dan blushed, and without a clever response to rescue him from his starry-eyed state, he simply seized Phil by his collar and yanked him down into a clumsy kiss. 

Phil laughed against Dan’s mouth, and even though their lips were dried from heavy panting and Dan’s hands were fumbling at the hem of Phil’s shirt, it was the sort of kiss that made promises. 

Dan was, at last, able to tug the shirt from Phil’s body, and Phil pulled his arms from the sleeves, but when he tried to yank it up over his head, it wouldn't budge. 

He began to giggle, his hands moving blindly to push the fabric away from his face so he could peer down at Dan. “I'm stuck.” he whined. 

Dan sat up a little, his hands unexpectedly steady as he undid the buttons that had prevented Phil’s declothing, and when he carefully lifted the shirt off and cast in onto the growing pile on the floor, Phil, in an act of genuine sweetness so pure and real that Dan would relive the moment hundreds and hundreds of times afterwards, leaned in and pressed a single kiss to Dan’s forehead. 

The kiss lingered for several moments, but when Phil pulled away, Dan reached up and took his face between his hands, the pads of his thumbs brushing tenderly beneath Phil’s eyes. 

“I can't believe I get to love you.” 

Phil’s round eyes blinked. “You love me?” 

“I have always loved you.” 

Phil released a shuddering breath and leaned into Dan’s touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment; he wanted to keep this moment forever, a Polaroid snapshot to keep always in his back pocket, one to pull out and cherish when the world around him was bleaker. 

When he opened his eyes, Phil pushed Dan back into the pillows and nestled his lips against the pulse point in his neck, reveling in the feeling of another warm body beneath his, the body of a being that Phil was completely convinced was interconnected with his own. He could feel Dan’s hands hovering over his naked hips, his fingers tracing tentatively around the waistband of his jeans. 

In the hopes of abating Dan’s hesitation, Phil slid one hand down to rest on top of Dan’s quivering lower stomach, his palm rubbing in a slow circle. 

When Dan began to moan softly, Phil trailed his fingers down and let them rest at Dan’s pelvis, one finger tracing the button on his jeans questioningly. 

His eyes flickered upwards to meet Dan’s, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of consent, before Phil undid the button. 

Dan wiggled his hips to assist Phil in stripping off his pants, which were added unceremoniously to the pile accumulating on the floor. 

Phil couldn't resist leaning back to admire Dan’s figure; he was all soft curves and smooth skin littered with beauty marks like stars littered the sky. 

Dan was clad only in a pair of fitted black boxers now, but instead of feeling exposed and vulnerable, he was struck with the sensation that they were on the edge of something magnificent. 

With only three layers of clothing between them, Phil gently ran a hand between Dan’s thighs, causing them to part almost on command, and he settled himself in the gap between Dan’s legs, before lifted his right leg and hooked it over his own shoulder. 

Dan watched in hazy curiosity, his eyebrows drawn slightly together, quizzical. 

“Is this okay?” Phil asked, genuine concern woven into the husky tone his voice had assumed. “Are you okay?” 

Dan nodded fervently. “Yes...yes, of course I...I...you…” 

Apparently, he had surpassed the threshold of coherent speech, but Phil smiled in a way that made Dan feel as though they were sharing a secret. His thumb pressed amorously into the outside of Dan’s knee, which he had a firm grip on, before he turned his head and began to lay a trail of electrical kisses up Dan’s inner thigh. 

The effect was beautiful and immediate; Dan’s lanky body arched upwards as heated waves of pleasure washed up his spine, his hands curling into fists and gripping the duvet like a lifeline. 

“Oh, Phil…” He moaned, unable to prevent his leg from kicking as a reflex. 

Dan had never been touched that way before, never with such gentleness and never by someone who was wholly and completely his. It was a feeling that, even now, he knew could never be replicated. 

Dan’s breathless whimper only served to encourage Phil, who had begun to leave a cluster of soft hickeys against Dan’s sweet, slightly salty skin, when he suddenly became astutely aware of how tight and uncomfortable his own jeans were. 

“One moment, Love...just….hang on…” He whispered, gently untangling himself from Dan and struggling with his button and zipper. 

Dan watched, transfixed, his eyes roaming shamelessly over Phil’s body, his lips parted slightly. 

In the pale moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Phil’s pallid skin gave off an almost ethereal glow, the reflection off of his pitch-black hair silvery. 

“You're an angel.” Dan murmured, and Phil gave a shy little laugh, a sound like tinkling bells, as he crawled back on top of him. 

The pressure and the friction created by their touching pelvises proved to be too much for both boys, Phil in particular and especially when Dan began to roll his hips upwards, his cheeks stained crimson and his eyes shimmering lustfully. 

To suppress his desperate whines that threatened to bubble from his mouth, Phil buried his face in Dan’s neck, nibbling and kissing at the hypersensitive and flushed skin there. In return, Dan wound his arms around Phil’s slim middle, the sting of his nails exquisite as they bit into Phil’s back. 

Together, moving a little gracelessly and clumsily, their bodies glowing with a thin sheen of sweat and hope, in the air made viscid with heavy breathing and whispered sweet nothings that really meant more than everything combined, they seemed to coalesce into one being. It wasn't perfect; Dan’s leg collided several times with the wall and his hands brushed too softly against spots on Phil’s body that were too ticklish. Phil nearly toppled off of Dan, resulting in a fit of giggling that lasted nearly ten full minutes. 

No, of course it wasn't perfect. 

But it _was_ magnificent, because Phil thought Dan was radiant and Dan thought Phil was ethereal, and they were enamored in ways they never knew they could be; the feeling in the air that night was the sort of thing that inspired artists to paint and birds to sing and flowers to grow, a wild and freeing aphrodisiac. 

Dan climaxed first, his body arcing upwards into Phil’s palm, which had found it’s way beneath his waistband and performed a whole new sort of magic that would leave Dan with a fixation on Phil’s hands that might last forever. 

Tingling all over and a bit dizzy in the head, Dan managed to wrap his arms around Phil and twist their bodies to swap their positions, and without the inhibition to hesitate, lowered his head between Phil’s thighs and explored the area that was, before, uncharted. 

Phil’s elegant legs draped over him, heels digging into his lower back, and a slight gasp escaped Dan’s occupied mouth when Phil’s hand tangled up in his hair, yanking gently enough to avoid hurting but hard enough to keep Phil tethered to something as he tossed his head back, his other hand gripping the pillow behind his head. 

It wasn't long before Phil reached his orgasm, both hands cupping the sides of Dan’s head to keep him moving on pace, Dan’s arms wrapped around his trembling thighs. 

He would never forget the way his name rolled off of Phil’s tongue in a rasping, delicate moan, or the way his entire body froze besides his toes, which pressed into Dan’s sides in frantic pleasure. 

Dan lay there for a fleeting moment, after Phil relaxed beneath him, and listened to the silence that was broken only by Phil’s shaky breathing and the rhythmic sound of rain chiming against a pane of glass. 

Hypnotized by the symphony that the two noises composed, it wasn't until he felt Phil’s hands searching for him that Dan lifted himself from the pillowy warmth of his thighs, so fatigued that he nearly tumbled off of the bed himself, the way Phil had done earlier. 

He climbed into Phil’s embrace, his lips grazing the tip of Phil’s nose softly before he nestled his chin against Phil’s shoulder, nose pressed into the side of his neck. Dan could feel Phil’s fingers pattering gently against his lower back in time to the sound of the rain, and he wondered vaguely if, tomorrow, things would be different. If in the full light of the garish sun, Phil would find him less beautiful, less touchable, be less in love. 

After all, there was a chance that this all meant less than nothing; that it was all happenstance and by the time the day came around to penetrate the sanctuary created by their closeness, it would be little more than an arbitrary mistake. 

The idea usually would have sent Dan into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead, he lifted his head and ran a thumb over Phil’s lower lip, before kissing him sleepily. 

And with the way Phil smiled, his head turning so he could gaze down into Dan’s eyes, one hand moving to stroke his soft jawline, Dan figured, for the first time, that he didn't really mind taking those chances.


End file.
